Chapter 1:

The Prospia Mansion

JoJo’s Bizarre Tournament Arc (JJBTA)


Information.

Historically speaking, it’s been something that was controlled by few. Even in the age of democracy, information is something that you got from a few select groups. Wether it be through newspapers, news broadcasts, or whatever your local library can supply you with, information is something controlled by the few. There has never been a way for information to be shared throughout the world by the masses for the masses.

That was until the age of information and social media; until the twenty-first century. With social media came a fundamental change in how information spread. Now anyone and everyone could share information and opinions with the world. And as such the world became aware of many political viewpoints. And as such, the twenty-first became known as a time of political tension. Not tension between rival nations (though that wasn’t absent from the time), but rather tension between the average citizens of those countries.

Despite this, however, not all people were caught up in this political tension. If you were to explore English countryside, you may come across an estate that stood as a testament to this. If you were to find the dirt road that leads to the house of the estate, along the way you would first be met by thick woods on either side of the road. The road twists and turns so that you cannot see where the road leads for a while until straightening out. You’ll then see a that the road reaches a clearing.

Once you reach the clearing you’ll be met with rolling green hills as far as the eye can see. Trees sparsely dot the landscape, and a few buildings can be seen. These were things like supply sheds, barns, and storage buildings. People could be seen working on the landscape, and in the distance inside a large fence you may see a man riding a thoroughbred chestnut horse. All of this in view and more belonged to the same estate, owned by an extremely influential man.

Eventually, after making your way through the expansive estate, you would eventually come to the manor of the estate. You would first be met by a brick wall that surrounded the manor and a gate in the way of the road. If you were permitted to enter, a man in a suit and shades would open the gate for you.

After getting past the gate you would find a statue in the driveway, which the road circled around. The statue was that of a robed female carrying a large pitcher over one of her shoulders with both arms. It was very clearly Roman inspired.

The mansion itself was a three story brick building in the Queen-Anne Victorian style. On either side of the estate main courtyard were two smaller buildings with triangular roofs. Atop the main building were three columns, the outside ones serving as chimneys and the center one serving as a bell tower. Once entering the gate and parking your car, a servant of the manor would help you out of your car, assuming you didn’t have one yourself.

This servant is a man of progressed age and clean-cut class. His hair is finely cut short with a part in the right side of his hair, and the hair on top of his head is combed away from the part and somewhat back so that his snow white hairs gradually go down in length. His tux is of utmost quality, with the typical white undershirt, black pants, black coat, and black tie of a butler. The man’s face is somewhat weathered, but he wears it with a subtle smile that is simultaneously welcoming and strictly businesslike.

This man was currently opening the back door of a black sedan. The vehicle had just finished taking the route described accompanied by three black SUVs. From the back door stepped out a blonde woman in shades, a black suit, tie, and a knee-length straight skirt. As she stepped out of the vehicle her hair flowed to the side before resting behind her at waist-length. She tilted her glasses to get a quick look at the butler with her crystal blue eyes.

He doesn’t look like he’s the one the associate mentioned, she thought to herself.

But I’ve been wrong before.

This woman is Jasmine Carrey, an operative under the employment of the Speedwagon foundation. If you asked her to describe herself, and by some miracle chance she decided to pay you any mind, she would say she’s a very simple kind of person. Clock in, get the job done, and clock out is her favorite phrase to use for such introductions.

However, if you ask anyone else that is well acquainted with her, you’ll get a much different answer. Egotistical, self-conscious, easily flustered, busybody, plastic, and arrogant. Those are just some of the words they would use to describe her, though opinions on her do vary.

But no matter who you ask, there is one thing they will always say about her:

She gets results.

She is buy and large the most trusted and relied upon SWF operative. Whether it be identifying and locating stand users, finding supernatural artifacts, subduing criminal stand users, or even something as mundane as securing extra government funding, if the Foundation wants to ensure something gets done, they turn to Carrey. And as such, they usually reserve their higher priority operations for her.

Her current assignment was no exception.

“Welcome to the Prospia Mansion, Ms. Carrey. We’ve been awaiting your arrival for quite some time now”

The butler’s voice was deep and soothing. He bowed with a hand across his chest after finishing his sentence. The woman seemed to ignore him as she turned back towards the car.

“I’m gonna talk to the associate on my own for a while, so you stay out for the time being”.

She was speaking to a man in the back seat of the sedan. He was only in his forties, but his platinum-blonde hair, rough beard, and sunken green eyes made him look much older. He was wearing a cheap brown suit and tie, the kind you would get for a job interview and never wear again. The contrast between his lack of grooming and the formal suit served to make him appear even more disheveled.

The man didn’t give any reaction to Carrey’s words. He simply continued to stare forwards.

What a pain, Carrey sighed internally, turning back to the butler.

“Go ahead and lead the way, mister..?”

“Refer to me as Denver”.

Strange name for a butler.

“Lead the way then, Denver”

Denver nodded as he shut the door and turned to walk into the manor. Jasmine followed behind with a strut calling attention to the hips. As they approached the doors to the manor, two servants in maid outfits that were standing still near the doors began to move. They opened the doors, revealing the manor’s impressive interior.

From outside the door, Carrey could see the floor, a few walls, a statue similar to the one outside, and the large staircase at the opposite side of the main room. The walls were various shades of red and purple, though none of those shades were excessively bright. The floor had a slanted black and white checkerboard pattern except for the red carpet that led from the doors to the staircase. The staircase itself was made of wood with a dark brown finish, polished so that you could see your reflection in the sturdy material.

Once inside, the agent was met with a high roof from which intricate crystal chandeliers hung, giving off a subtle light that resembled natural sunlight. To the right was a wide hallway with at least five doors on each side before turning to the right. To the left was a large rounded wooden door. Various paintings dotted the room’s walls, a full-scale replica of Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte hanging centerfold at the top of the staircase.

Denver led the unimpressed Carrey up the staircase. After reaching the top, he took a right into a long hallway. After passing several doors, the butler stopped in the middle of the hall and next to a set of dark brown double doors. He turned back towards the agent and gestured towards the door.

“The master of the manor is waiting for you in here”.

“Thank you”.

Jasmine gave no other gesture of appreciation other than those two words. She immediately went to go open the door, though when she reached for the doorknob she hesitated for a bit.

I wonder what this guy is like.

Other than the man’s name, occupation, and prior work with the Speedwagon Foundation, Carrey was not given any information on the master of the manor. His age, personality, appearance, marital status, and many other things were completely unknown to her. There could be any kind of person waiting before her. Though that didn’t mean she had a few assumptions based on what she knew.

One of the things she knew for sure was what he had worked on with the Speedwagon Foundation. He had done extensive research on stands, the results of which he shared with the Speedwagon Foundation, for a price of course. Because of this, Jasmine guessed he might be one of those nosy intellectual types, the kind of person that has no sense of social boundaries and asks any question they want without a second thought. Also since he had done such extensive research, he was obviously at least in his late thirties.

But that guess to his personality wasn’t Carrey’s first guess. In fact, she had only thought that because of a bad experience with a man that was a researcher. Her actual first guess, which she was almost 100% certain of, was based on the man’s name. More specifically, it was based on his last name.

Carrey realized she had been standing in from of the door for a little too long and began to turn the knob. As the door opened it revealed a quaint little office with what looked like family photos on the wall. In front of the door was a reddish-brown desk, behind it a dark brown leather chair. The chair was turned around hiding the man who sat in from view.

“Master Joestar,” Denver spoke to the man in the chair, “Ms. Jasmine Carrey of the Speedwagon Foundation has come to speak business with you”.

Joestar.

Nobody at the Speedwagon foundation was unfamiliar with that name. Members of the Joestar bloodline had been closely associated with the foundation since before it was even created by the oil tycoon Robert E.O. Speedwagon. And as such, everyone that worked for the SWF had heard many a story of the Joestars. And after hearing those stories, a pretty clear pattern of their personalities developed. Brash, extremely confident, cunning, popular with the ladies, and a strong sense of justice. That’s what makes a Joestar a Joestar. So Carrey had a pretty good idea what kind of person awaited her.

Even so, Jasmine was taken aback when the Joestar turned their chair around. The first thing she noticed was how old he looked. Rather than the middle-aged man she had expected, she was met with someone with most of their life ahead of them. They were obviously still in their teens, albeit the latter half. The other thing that surprised Jasmine was his green eyes. They did not shine with the same youthful vigor that accompanied the other Joestars she had previously met. Instead, they felt more piercing and analytic. His brown hair was shortly cut, styled with a part in the right side of his hair and so that the top was combed away from it.

The young Joestar wore a blue, bespoken suit. The jacket was buttoned up to his chest. Beneath it, a white undershirt could be seen with a blue tie in the middle. Strangely enough, the stitching used for the suit did not match the color of the suit, but rather opted for a white color. If you were to look beneath the Joestar’s desk, you would see that his shoes also had the same white color.

“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” he said as he extended a hand to Jasmine.

“The name’s Josiah, Josiah Joestar”

Once again, Jasmine was taken aback. This man was supposedly a Brit, yet he spoke with a plain, American accent.

“Jasmine Carrey,” she replied, shaking Josiah’s hand, “I assume you know why I’m here?”

“Of course,” replied Josiah, taking his hand back and resting it upon the table, “What is it that the foundation wants?”

“We want you to find the user of a stand”

“Seriously?” replied Josiah, squinting his eyes, “You came to me for that? Isn’t that your job, Ms. Carrey?”

“Yes, and that’s why I’m here. I know you’ve been able to identify stand users in the past, so I’m sure you can do it now”

“In other words, you believe my stand allows me to somehow find other stand users?”

“Exactly”

“But don’t you already have someone with such an ability at the Foundation? I mean, I’d assume you would”

“He...” replied Jasmine, looking down at the floor, “He died during a recent operation”

“So now you need to come to me?”

“Exactly”

“I can help you, but first, I need to clear up a misunderstanding,” said Josiah as he got up from his chair.

“Denver, could you step into my office real quick?”

At his master’s command, the servant that had welcomed Jasmine into the building entered Josiah’s office.

“What can I do for you, Master Joestar?”

“This is the man that will help you locate the stand user,” said Josiah, gesturing towards the butler, “it is his stand who I’ve used to locate stand users in the past”

“So it wasn’t your own stand?” Exclaimed Jasmine, “Yet you made it seem as if it were your discovery?”

“Denver, I need you to find a stand user,” said Josiah, ignoring Jasmine’s exclamation, “Ms. Carrey, tell us what you know about the stand”

“It’s a stand in the form of multiple ink stamps,” said Jasmine, trying to hide her frustration with Josiah, “it has a worldwide range and the stamps can be used by other stand users. The stamps are used to stamp numbers on other stand users”

“That doesn’t sound dangerous at all. How come you want to find the user?” Asked Josiah.

“That’s because once the number is put on a stand user, they-“

“Become apart of a game for the user’s amusement”

Denver, Jasmine, and Josiah turned towards the door of Josiah’s office. Menacingly standing in front of it was the man that had interrupted Jasmine. A smile spread across his face, its smugness accented by his shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes. The man wore a red leather jacket with a fur interior and a flared out collar. His undershirt was a plain white tee, and his pants were jeans with a red tint to them. At his waist a belt buckle with the word bad on it could be seen. His left arm crossed his body and he held an golden ink stamp in his hand.

“I think you’ll find that you have no need for that man’s ability,” he said, “if you’re able to defeat me, I may be able to point you in the user’s direction”

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